


Learning to Love Himself

by CalamityCons



Series: Noble in Name and in Thought [3]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Oneshot, Renegade Commander Shepard, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 08:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3522140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalamityCons/pseuds/CalamityCons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrus Vakarian doesn't want to confront Shepard after their less than satisfying liaison, so she goes to him instead.</p><p>Spoilers for Mass Effect 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning to Love Himself

The gun is cold in his hands, the pieces scattered in two pathetic piles of warped and functional. Jack’s guffaw shoots through to his auditory canal from the other side of his door, followed by a chorus of giggles and chuckles from his squad mates. His eyes squeeze shut before he realizes they were closed. He snaps the pieces together at record speed, shaking his head, trying not to just call it a day and go to sleep.

He’s put his gun back together many times, but there are some sections of his gun that are unsalvageable. He can’t find that damn firing pin that he knew was _right here, damn it, I only put it down or a second._ Try as he might, the pin eluded him. He’s not going to go to the armory to find one, which would run the risk of running into her. He growls and turns on his omni-tool, which had been temporarily retired to help him focus.

He plucks out the code for his favorite extranet gun-smithing site and starts to take a look at replacement firing pins for Mantis-brand sniper rifles when something touches his shoulder. He twists around, expecting a Collector to be behind him because damn it all, that was just his luck, wasn’t it? His hand makes contact with something and it makes a strange grunt. It takes him a second too long to realize it’s her.

“Shepard! I, shit, are you alright?” His arms lift up to stabilize her, but an arm of her own shoots up, too-many fingers outstretched. His mandibles slam together as she rolls her scarred jaw. His stomach flips before she huffs out in approval.

“Nothing broken, should be fine.”

“Oh. Good, that’s… that’s good. Damn it,” his talons pull against his fringe, and he can’t quite look away from the stinging redness in her cheek, “Guess I’m more worked up than I thought.”

“What, we didn’t blow enough steam beforehand?” Shepard’s smile should be contagious.

“Shepard, we didn’t blow any steam beforehand.” The humor is missing from his subvocals.

“I’ll have to disagree with you on that, big guy.” She cocks an eyebrow as her gaze falls to Garrus’ workbench. He glances at it himself from his peripherals when Shepard’s huff catches him. Her arm grips his shoulder. Garrus lowers his head, and he starts to shake, hoping to the Spirits she won’t notice. “Mind if I help you take care of that problem?” She slides her arm down his, ending the motion with a tug.

 He wrenches his hand out of her grip and takes a step back. “Don’t do that. With your arm, I don’t think I could…” _Fuck_ , he should have gotten over this by now. He pivots back to his workbench and snatches the broken pieces of the gun with trembling hands. He manages to slide two pieces together before she speaks again.

“You don’t need all the pieces to make it work, Garrus.”

“Can we talk about this later?” He barks. “I need to fix this damn gun.”

Shepard slips into an easy lean next to his arm on the workbench, but doesn’t touch him. He doesn’t dare look at her face. She picks up one of his busted gun pieces and pretends to examine it. “Can’t imagine how you can, Garrus.”

Garrus pulls in a gulp of air. His hands float down to the workbench, a lost cause. The brown, all-too-human arm returns to his shoulder. “If anyone could fix this, it would be you. You’ve put together more complex guns than this one in just one month.” Her chin points to the Thanix behind him.

“Is that how _you’re_ supposed to fix me?” Garrus bites. “Give me shit then follow it up with hollow praise?”

“Garrus.” He can’t bring himself to look her in the eyes. She says nothing more, just places an arm on his back and nudges him to face her. He swats her arm away.

“Since when can you give tech advice anyway? You’re so shit at programming you didn’t even _try_ to decrypt any of the locks we found.” He snaps more pieces together and swipes at a wrench. It tumbles to the ground.

“That’s because others were around to compensate.” Garrus huffs as he crouches, hunting for the wrench. “And hey, you taught me enough that I could bypass most locked crates if I wanted to.”

“As if you ever want to. How often do you even slow down long enough to notice a locked crate?” Wrench in hand, Garrus bolts back upward and resumes his sloppy repair job. “That fancy biotic charge of yours only serves to put you in the line of fire like a headless _qillum_ when you have no right to do so.”

“You got me there, buddy.” Shepard relaxes against his workbench, all too easily. “If it weren’t for your eagle eyes I’d have died before I made it halfway through Omega’s Gozu District.” Garrus pounds his tools onto the bench and they fall apart due to his sloppy work.

“Damn it Shepard, I haven’t done shit for you and you know it!”

“Garrus, you’ve done more for me than anyone—”

“Don’t you _dare_ pretend it wasn’t a fluke!” His head rotates to meet her eyes, his hands clenched. “I couldn’t even make it halfway before slamming straight into hell and we had _two hours!”_ Garrus punches his workbench and spirals backward, toward the other wall.

“We should never have tried. It was never going to work.” Shepard says nothing. He sucks in a breath, but try as he might his subvocals still warble. “One more check on my remarkable list of failures.” His hands clench, his neck bows. Traitorous keens slip through his second voice box. “Can’t bring a girlfriend to the limit, Spectre training kicked me out on my ass, I was a piece of shit at C-Sec,” he chokes on his own words and has to gulp them back. “I got my squad killed, cut ties with all my friends, and I… dishonored my family…” His gasps echo in the Main Battery. He remembers the chat he managed to get with his sister, and her words flash behind his eyelids.

_…why are we even talking? Go have your fun doing merc work or screwing around or whatever. Just don't act like you care…_

 He feels more than sees Shepard sneaking toward him, and before she can touch him he spits out a cry. Somehow, Shepard makes it in front of him without him noticing. She presses her hand to his numbed right half, and he opens his eyes. She presses her forehead against his and his gasps grow in speed. Then her lips press to his mouth plates and he almost keens right into her mouth. She wraps an arm around his middle and he traps her in his embrace, shifting his head and letting her love him. When they split for air, he gapes at her before she laughs and kisses him again.

“You can’t fix a gun when half the pieces are missing, Garrus.” She says, her hand cradling his cheek. He pushes his head into it, pressing them closer together. His eyes close and he holds her for who knows how long. Eventually, she strokes her hand away. His eyes open to follow her.

“Come on, I’m sure there are plenty of replacements in the armory.” Garrus nods, takes a deep breath, and fixes his posture. He strolls out of the battery with his hand enveloped in Shepard’s. With her, he could conquer anything.


End file.
